A Debt of Care
by daylighthour
Summary: The men of the Indefatigable are granted shore leave in time for Christmas, but a sudden illness casts a shadow of what was meant to be a joyful time.
1. Chapter 1

_"You'd have done the same thing for me if I were in your place."_

 _"But you're not, Horatio, and you never would be."_

"Do you think they've forgotten us, Horatio?"

Horatio didn't shift his gaze from the lamppost he'd been staring at for nearing the past five minutes. "I'm sure they'll be around presently," he said, using the same tone of false patience he adopted when his men exacerbated him.

Archie could see no reason in the world for his friend's temper to bristle. With _Indefatigable_ laid up in port for repairs, Pellew had given the crew a full week's leave. The grant could not have come at a better time; Christmas Day was in just two days. At Archie's insistence, Horatio was spending the holiday with him at his sister's house on account of its being closest to port. Archie smiled in anticipation and tipped his gaze skywards. The night was clear, a sunset spreading her lazy arms across the harbor, and for late December, very fair. A crisp blanket of snow from the past night crunched beneath Archie's boots. Giddy with Christmas cheer, Archie couldn't help but scoop up a handful and lob it at Horatio. The snowball smacked cleanly against the side of his neck and snuck downwards beneath the collar of his cloak. Horatio jumped as if he'd been stung.

"Archie!" He pawed furiously at the snow which stuck to his skin. "What it God's name did you do that for?"

Archie bit his lip against a grin, bracing himself for return fire from Horatio, but none came. On the contrary, Horatio clenched his jaw in genuine anger, his temple pulsing. "As if I weren't cold enough," he grumbled.

Taken aback, Archie stuttered, "I'm sorry, Horatio. I-I didn't think."

Horatio merely tugged his coat tighter around his shoulders and resumed his vigil for the carriage they had sent for back at the Indy. Archie studied his friend's face for a hint of what troubled him, but it was as impassive as ever. Perhaps he was upset at spending the holiday with Archie's family, but it was either that or spend it at an inn since he had no living family of his own.

When the carriage finally arrived, Horatio slid in first and laid his head against the window, shutting his eyes. Archie gave directions to his sister's house and then hopped in beside him.

"Is everything alright, Horatio?"

Horatio sighed, his eyes fluttering open reluctantly. "Just a bit tired, Archie."

"Rest then. You've been busy as a bee these past months on the _Indy_ , it's no surprise."

Archie received no response, and so he turned his attention out his own window to occupy himself. He watched city blocks fade to sparse country shacks, watched trees and sheep and grass roll by. They'd be at Eleanor's home in just over an hour. He looked back at Horatio and found the man asleep, his mouth hanging open slightly. A twinge of worry crept into Archie's throat-Horatio was more likely sick to his stomach in a carriage than lulled to sleep-but Archie swallowed it down. If the man could snatch another hour of sleep, he'd be all the better for it.

Feeling slightly guilty, Archie shook Horatio awake by the shoulder when the long path to Eleanor's came into view.

"We'll be there in a minute or two."

Horatio blinked blearily, then coughed, a few quickly stifled barks. "Excuse me. And thank you, Archie."

Archie narrowed his eyes. "Do you feel well?"

Horatio nodded (of course, had Archie expected any differently?), but Archie remained unconvinced. He pressed a quick hand to Horatio's cheek, which the latter quickly slapped away. "You feel a little warm."

"I'm perfectly fine, Archie," Horatio snapped. "And I believe we've stopped."

And so they had. They stepped out of the carriage as the driver delivered them their baggage, and Archie's chest surged with joy. It had been three years since he'd seen Eleanor or her husband, but the house looked the same as he'd remembered. A bough of holly hung above the door.

"She has a beautiful home." Horatio drew beside Archie and handed him his sea chest. Archie took it without really feeling its weight in his hands.

"You haven't even seen the inside yet, you fool," Archie said. "That's the best part."

Horatio smiled. "Let's not delay then."

Archie had no sooner knocked on the door than did it open, revealing Eleanor's pink cheeks and broad smile. Her hair fell in ringlets on her shoulders, arms open broadly for an embrace. She hadn't changed an inch.

"Baby brother deigned to give me a visit on Christmas," she said, and engulfed Archie in a hug. Both laughed, almost drunk on the happiness of seeing each other again. Archie breathed in her sweet scent; she must have been baking something.

Eleanor pulled back slightly out of the embrace, eyes eagerly soaking in every inch of Archie's smiling face. She looked for any trace of the horrors of his imprisonment, but at the moment found none. She heaved a contented sigh. "You're home, Archie."

A barking cough from behind them reminded them of Horatio's presence. He looked up, wide-eyed at his intrusion.

Eleanor moved to him. "And you must be Horatio Hornblower."

"The pleasure is mine, Mrs. Reynolds." Horatio stuck out a hand, but Eleanor bypassed it, engulfing him in a bear hug instead.

"Archie has told me so much about you."

Archie blushed, sure Horatio would let him have it for daring to write about him. In the force of the embrace, Horatio opened his mouth to speak but found himself coughing again instead.

Eleanor broke off at once. "Come in, come in. You'll catch your death in that cold, both of you."

The house was well sized, bigger than anything Horatio was used to but by no means a mansion. The air smelled wonderfully of cinnamon and mint, and Horatio felt welcome at once.

"Your room is down that hall, Horatio," Eleanor said pointing, "if you'd rather not lug around your baggage all night. The first door on the left. Oh, I suppose I should show you."

"Nonsense, Mrs. Reynolds," Horatio said, and then quickly explained himself. "Please, stay with Archie and talk. I'm sure I'll be able to find it." He went off in the direction Eleanor had pointed, coughing when he thought he was out of earshot, but still the sound echoed back.

Eleanor frowned slightly. "He's got a cough, poor lad."

Archie shook his head. "And he's none too well for it. He fell asleep on the carriage ride here. Would you make him some of your honey tea? He won't admit it, but I think it's just what he needs."

"Of course, Archie." She smiled mischievously. "I'll sneak it in with his dinner."

Archie returned the grin, pleased he could still count on his sister to be of one mind with him even after all these years. "And speaking of which, what have you cooked up tonight?"

Eleanor placed a hand over her heart in mock indignation. "Why, brother, I thought you'd never ask."

Archie followed her in the kitchen, where bread rolls and cinnamon cakes and lamb stew abounded. Even though her husbands salary as a country doctor would not allow her the luxury of a maid, Eleanor didn't despair. She had loved cooking ever since she was a little girl, and snatched every opportunity to showcase her talents.

Archie inhaled deeply. "Ellie, you've spoiled us. How are we to go back to eating ship's biscuits after eating like this for a week?"

Eleanor wanted to make a Biblical reference, to say that this was the feast for the Prodigal Son, once thought lost now home safely at last, but she bit her tongue. Best not conjure up memories for her brother when he seemed so happy at last. "Oh hush. I don't even want to hear what they feed you boys and have the audacity to call food."

She and Archie chatted pleasantly as he helped her put the finishing touches on the meal. She was filling him in on the gossip of the family and the countryside when she paused.

"Your friend still hasn't come back from his room."

Archie's stomach burned with shame; he'd forgotten about Horatio for the moment. "Indeed he hasn't. Let's ready the table and then check on him, shall we? Knowing him, he's probably exploring the house."

"Good idea. David will be home any minute, and he'll be famished. I hardly think he'll wait for us before he starts eating." She laughed, and they set the table with food for four before heading off in search of Horatio.

They found him in bed, sprawled under the blankets and fast asleep. Eleanor clucked her tongue softly. "Look at the flush on his cheeks. No doubt the poor thing has a fever, too."

The twinge of worry crept into Archie's throat again, and he found it a bit harder to swallow this time. Horatio was hardly ever sick, what if- Archie stopped himself. Everyone had to get sick at some point. Horatio was fine.

"Should I wake him?" Archie asked.

Eleanor shook her head. "Let him sleep. God knows you boys don't get enough of it on your ship. I'll bring 'round some stew and tea later if he's hungry."

Archie acquiesced and, still trying to push his nerves away, followed his sister back to the kitchen. Waiting for them there was her husband, hair windswept and nose bitten pink from the cold. He chewed something and quickly swallowed, putting on a smile of feigned innocence.

"David, how many cinnamon cakes did you eat?"

"None, of course, love."

"Less than three?"

David sighed, palms up in surrender. "Three exactly."

Eleanor swatted his shoulder. "You should be ashamed. We've got too more mouths to feed than usual."

David blinked in surprise, seemingly taking in the sight of his guest for the first time. "Archie Kennedy!" He wrung Archie's hand in a vigorous handshake. "How kind of you to join us for a Christmas Eve's Eve dinner!"

Eleanor put a cloth over the cinnamon cakes to guard them until it was time for dessert. "I've been telling you for weeks, David. 'He's coming 'round for Christmas and he's bringing a shipmate', I said nearly every day. I think I even told you this morning."

David kissed the top of her auburn head. "I've had a lot on my mind, dear. My apologies, Archie. Coughs and sneezes are in full swing this winter. Makes me a busy man." He clapped his hands together, remembering. "Your friend? Where is he?"

Archie cleared his throat. "Horatio isn't feeling too well himself. He's asleep in the guest room. Bit of a cold I think."

David made a face of sympathy. "He won't be joining us for dinner then?"

Eleanor shook her head. "Unless he wakes halfway through. I don't have the heart to wake him myself, and neither does Archie."

The three of them sat down to eat, Eleanor having cleared away Horatio's spot and put his food in the kitchen for later. Archie felt his absence beside him as a gnawing guilt. This Christmas was supposed to be different for Horatio, surrounded by good food and good company instead of his own brooding thoughts. His sister's stew tasted heavenly, but it felt rough going down.

"Did you hear me, Archie?" David asked. Both he and Eleanor looked at him expectantly.

Archie forced a smile. "My apologies. Food this tasty proves quite a distraction."

Everyone laughed, and the sound relieved Archie slightly. David spoke again. "I said, what's the occasion for shipmate's joining us? Hasn't he anywhere else to stay than with a brute like Eleanor?"

Eleanor glared at him, trying not to smile. "I'll respectfully ignore that comment, but the reasons were all in Archie's letters."

"My love, my head is so full of medical nonsense that it leaves scarce enough room for anything else. You should be glad I remember where I live."

"He's got no family," Archie said. "Well, none alive anyway. His father died last year, but they were never close anyhow." Archie thought of the packages he'd received on Christmas in years past, while Horatio got a brisk letter and last year, nothing at all. He would always shrug and smile, saying he didn't mind, but Archie knew better.

"Poor thing," Eleanor said softly.

Archie continued. "When the captain announced he'd be giving us leave, I insisted that Horatio come home with me. He'd be spending it in a ragged old inn otherwise."

David nodded. "You're a good friend, Archie. He's lucky to have you."

"No, it's I who is lucky to have him." Archie cleared his throat, which was suddenly thick with emotion, and looked down at his lap. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Eleanor rest her hand atop her husband's, and he knew she was silencing him.

Eleanor steered the conversation elsewhere, and dinner passed in a considerably lighter mood. Once they had finished their desserts, David rubbed his hands together.

"Say, Archie, you wouldn't mind teaching me a few of your sailor's knots, would you? I'd like to make sure my horse doesn't go running away while I'm at a patient's house. I've had a couple close calls."

Archie looked to his sister, who nodded. "Go ahead. I'll take some dinner up to Horatio."


	2. Chapter 2

With a tray of broth from the stew, honey tea, and a roll of bread in hand, Eleanor snuck carefully into the guest room. Horatio was still asleep, and she waited for a moment, weighing her guilt against the prospect of waking him.

He shifted, eyes fluttering open for a moment, and Eleanor decided to coax him from his half sleep.

"Horatio, dear," she said softly, "are you hungry?"

Horatio shot awake, startled by the sound of a female voice. He did his best to suppress his coughs as he looked around, trying to process his strange surroundings. After a moment he remembered he was in a room in Archie's sister's home, and that she was standing before him, holding a little tray. She set it down on the nightstand.

"I didn't mean to startle you," she said apologetically. "But I've brought you some tea and dinner if you'd like it. After a long day, you must be hungry."

"Dinner," Horatio repeated, then alarm cut through the thick fog in his brain. He peeled back the covers at once, coughing into a fist as he sat up. "I've missed dinner."

Eleanor restrained him with a gentle hand on his chest. "Don't trouble yourself, Horatio. You're ill and you needed the rest."

Horatio shook his head, wincing as he swallowed. "Still, I shouldn't have."

"It's alright, dear." She glanced the sweat on his brow. "My husband's a doctor. I can send him up to check on you if you'd like."

"My father was a doctor and so I know I'm quite alright." Horatio blushed, immediately ashamed at the sharpness of his words. He tried to soften them. "No need to trouble yourself on my behalf, Mrs. Reynolds. It's just a little cold." He coughed again.

Eleanor handed him the mug of tea. "Drink this. It's tea to help your throat."

Horatio couldn't very well refuse a direct act of kindness, so he took the cup, nodding his thanks. The warm liquid slid soothingly down his raw throat. "It's wonderful," he almost groaned. He blushed again, before sipping too hastily and choking on the water.

Eleanor rubbed his back as he spluttered. "Slowly, dear. No need to rush."

Once he had regained his breath, Horatio cleared his throat and asked, "Where's Archie?"

Eleanor smiled at their friendship. "He's downstairs with my husband. Would you like me to fetch him?"

Horatio shook his head quickly. "No, leave him be. I was just...wondering."

Eleanor watched him sip at the tea for a moment, taking in the man that Archie had written so much about. The words tumbled from her mouth before she could stop them. "Archie speaks very highly of you."

Horatio laughed derisively. "I worry Archie speaks _too_ highly of me. Surely you must know where he gets his penchant for exaggeration."

"I don't think he's exaggerated, Horatio. You've been a great friend to him, especially during your time in prison…"

Horatio's hands tightened around the cup, knuckles white. "It was my duty to him as a friend and a shipmate."

Eleanor shook her head lightly. "I don't know many men possessing of your patience. We feared him lost." Her voice sank to a quavering whisper. "I think he feared himself lost as well. You brought him back to himself, to us."

"Archie alone is responsible for his own recovery," Horatio said brusquely. "I merely helped a bit."

"Archie seems to think otherwise. He wrote that you forced him to keep living even when that was the last thing he wanted."

"I did no more for Archie than he would have done for me!" Horatio nearly shouted, and despite the rasp in his voice, Eleanor caught a glimpse of the officer he was on board his ship. She fell silent, surprised at his anger but then remembering that Archie had told her Horatio was exceedingly hard on himself and did not like to talk about his own affairs.

For a while, the only sounds were Horatio's swallows. Eleanor looked at him.

"We are grateful you could spend this holiday week with us, Horatio."

He regarded her with tired eyes, muffling a cough. "I fear I'm shaping up to be a terrible guest."

"Nonsense. Everyone feels a bit off now and again."

Horatio smiled at this absolution, which quickly turned into a yawn. "Excuse me."

"No, excuse _me_. I believe I've kept you from your rest long enough." Eleanor started for the door, gesturing to the tray she had left. "Finish what you'd like and leave what you can't manage. I'll come 'round in the morning to collect what's left."

"Mrs. Reynolds?"

She turned, finding Horatio already burrowed back beneath the covers, eyes weighing shut. "Call me Eleanor, please."

"Thank you," he said, and the tenderness in his voice made tears well in her eyes.

"Get some sleep. You'll feel better in the morning."


End file.
